Our kisses became deeper. The next thing I knew he had me up against the wall with my legs straddled around his waist, and my blazer was toppling to the floor. Then the kisses stopped as suddenly as they began.
He put me back down on the floor gently and took my hand. “Follow me.”
I whispered, “I would follow you anywhere.”
He led me into the bathroom and then shut the door. I assumed he wanted to take a shower or bath together. Much to my surprise, he twirled me around until we were both facing a full-length mirror on the back of the door.
“Why don’t you like to take pictures, Evoni?” He reached around me and started unbuttoning my blouse. “You’re so incredibly beautiful.”
I stood there, frozen, and glared in the mirror while he seductively removed all of my clothing, nibbling on my neck and shoulder blades while he went about his task. Once I was entirely nude, he took my pert breasts into his palms and rubbed my hard nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.
One of his hands dropped down and found the cherry between my thighs. I was in a trance, somewhere between reality and heaven’s gate. His fingers worked magic on my clit and explored my pussy lips with a tenderness I had never felt.
Then he blurted it out. “Let me take your picture. Let me take a picture of the real you.”
I was still nervous, but by that point, I was so much into him that even taking a picture was acceptable. Posing in the nude was something I never imagined doing. Hell, I never even wanted to pose with clothes on, but for this man who went by the name of Curtis, I was not only willing but eager to please him.
“Okay,” I replied, taking a hold of the hand between my legs and guiding his fingers deeper into me. I stared at him in the mirror. “Take my picture.”
We left the bathroom, and he laid me down on his waterbed. It was covered with red satin sheets. He removed the pins from my hair, letting my hair flow down around my shoulders. He bent over and kissed me. “Wait right here, baby.”
He left to get his camera, and while he was gone, I played with my nipples. I had never masturbated in front of a man before, but I didn’t stop when he reentered the room. In fact, I put on a show for him.
I masturbated while he took pictures of me. I can’t believe I can actually just come out and say it like that, but that’s exactly what I did and I have no regrets. I didn’t look at the camera, though. I shut my eyes and pretended it was his hands on my breasts and fingering my pussy. I imagined him taking me right there on his bed, grabbing my full hips and pulling them deeper onto his dick, partaking of me from the front and then from the back. I imagined him suckling on my nipples and nibbling on my ass cheeks. I imagined him sliding his dick in and out of my mouth, and his cum trickling out of the sides and down my chin, splattering on my breasts. Then, when I had imagined it all, I came all over his red satin sheets. I came in front of the camera. I came like I never had.
He snapped one last picture, and then I heard the humming while the camera automatically rewound the film. It was that moment I opened my eyes. I was shocked to see that he was naked. To this day, I still don’t know when he took off his clothes. All I know is that he looked good. Damn good.
I sat up on the bed and reached out my arms for him. He put the camera down on the foot of the bed and joined me. Then I jumped his bones for real. We did all the things I had imagined when I was masturbating.
Curtis and I have been living together for more than a year now. Our wedding is next month. I just can’t wait to see how the wedding pictures turn out.
A Time for Change
Drake and I had been married for less than two years when I was ready to pack my things up and leave his ass for good. Don’t get me wrong! He wasn’t physically or emotionally abusive or anything of that nature. It wasn’t from lack of attention or quality time together either. I was on the verge of deserting him and heading home to Momma for one reason and one reason only. He didn’t fuck me right.
I know what you’re thinking. Why didn’t I know he couldn’t fuck before the marriage? I agree it is a logical question. I only wish I had a logical answer. Drake was very romantic during our dating relationship and extremely sincere. I guess I let those qualities overshadow his lack of sexual skills. I didn’t feel putting sex in front of other priorities was the mature thing to do.
On my wedding night, I realized my horrid mistake. Throughout the engagement, Drake and I always talked about how we were going to save some things for the honeymoon, such as performing oral sex on one another, and that was cool with me. I wanted something special to look forward to just like him.
We had a beautiful wedding ceremony in my mother’s backyard in Cleveland. By that time, we were already settled down in a cozy little apartment together in Akron but still abstained from oral sex until the wedding. It was on my wedding night that Drake made it apparent he
only planned to go downtown to window-shop and never intended to actually purchase anything.
The sex on our honeymoon was swift and effortless, boring even. I should’ve gotten an annulment, but I truly love Drake. For almost two years, I suffered through lying in the dark in the missionary position, exactly two times a week, while he had his way with me. I never had orgasms because he was done before I could ever become aroused enough to come. Half of the time I was so turned off, he fucked me dry, and it became painful.
I tried everything I could possibly think of, including romantic, seductive evenings, wearing sexy lingerie, etc. He was totally unreceptive to all these things. He would just fuck me quick and then go to sleep, assuming the satisfaction was mutual.
I tried reading erotic material aloud to him in bed, buying him skin mags, and even renting pornos. He would listen to the erotica, although it obviously made him uncomfortable, but flat-out refused to look at the mags or porno movies.
Despite constant temptation from men at the office and the gym where I work out, I couldn’t bring myself to cheat on Drake, so I did the next best thing. Men made love to me the way I wanted them to in my mind. I became a mental nymphomaniac, thinking about sex every second of every day, no matter where I was or what I was doing. It satisfied my sexual urges for a little while, but not for long.
Then I asked a female friend of mine, who always seemed so sexually in tune with herself, to tell me how to masturbate, and she gave me blow-by-blow instructions. I would sneak and do it whenever I could, while Drake was working late at the office or gone out to the store. I tried to make every private moment an erotic one. Once, I even masturbated in the bathtub while he was right in the other room.
I was going nuts! The daydreams and masturbation were cool, but I needed Drake to make love to me in all the ways I desired. He just wasn’t responding though.
Desperate times call for desperate measures. So one night, over a dinner of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and peas, I told Drake when my vacation from work came up in a couple weeks, I was going home to visit my mother. Then I added, “I may not be coming back!”
They were the most difficult words I had ever spoken, but they had to come out. He asked me, “Why? What do you mean? Are you saying you want a divorce?”